Tuesday
Then: Addicted to Dread
While I've now been dragged by the ear to learn the mysteries of the prostate gland through my journey, the adrenal medulla gland has emerged as a new puzzlement. Its adrenaline spurts are scary and mysterious. If you are facing a dreaded situation, I urge you to get in touch with this hormone’s effects on you.
I pondered a question with Jon MacRae on several occasions. Why did I feel a quick rush of near exhilaration at the grimmest of news or the contemplation of the worst-case scenarios? Jon said I was transferring the dread of the unknown from my inner life to the outer life, outside of my center. That’s probably true. Just as likely, I was trying to shed some past pain. Or, as Mary Melbo says in profiling me as a six on the Enneagram system, I was ever the optimist but with a tendency to fear.
So, am I somehow addicted to the prospect of dreaded news? My former business partner in our Internet professional services firm in San Francisco, Novo, Kelly Rodriques, at one time a worldclass pole vaulter, admitted that what drove him to such heights in his sport and such a ‘take-no-prisioners’ approach to business was an actual, diagnosed by a doctor, addiction to adrenaline. It shocks me to think about and remember how I felt coming out of Dr. Bill Utz’s examining room following the biopsy to tell Carla the grim news. I actually think there was a bit of a ‘rush’ from the numbing news that had just been delivered. Somewhere in the sinews of my center is something calling for another dose of dread? I think it has to be adrenaline that triggered these reactions. Whatever the case, I’d have to say – like my cancer – I don’t feel cured of this addiction, but I think it’s more in check.
Also, the realization just hit me that my dreams have changed markedly since my diagnosis. At least I can’t recall having my most common reoccurring dreams, many dealing with befuddlement around airports, strange airplanes, strange flying patterns, or finding myself back in a town with a vital person from my past but being unable to successfully dial the person's phone number. Maybe since my real journey had its own unique twists and turns I no longer need to invent the dread of being in flummoxing situations in my dreams.
I just had a dream this morning that is somewhat reflective of where my dream life has headed in recent months. I did reconnect with a dear friend from college and everyone reveled in the reunion. I took this as a sign that not only am I more in control of what I do next, I need to not just question what's next, but to walk around a bunch of corners and grab what's revealed.
Oddly – at least to me – I also find myself waking at night with the mind asking – seeking – “are there any visions or flashes of insight” here in this particular fog? My son Mark introduced me to the heavy metal band System of a Down, and amazingly to me, I for the first time ever can see the appeal in metal music. I bring this up because this band has a wonderful lyric that has been stuck in my head all year: “Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep.”
Why my mind is looking for something in the sacred silence of my wakeful moments I can only guess. I suppose it goes back to the sessions with Jon MacRae. A couple of months ago I did have a ‘vision’ that might be something other than the weird shapes your eyes ‘see’ when waking that are caused by moving fluids on your eye’s surface. I awoke, turned my head slightly right and looked across the room above an armoire. There on the wall appeared a perfect square of bright light. Within less than a second, it became an intense and sharp band of light that curved clockwise to form a swirling circle. And just like that it was gone. I actually sat up and pondered what to do. The next few nights I remember turning to look at the same spot in the night, but it didn’t reappear. Was it really something? I have no idea. It’s meaning? Maybe as simple as: “you’ve been looking for something. OK, here’s something. Now stop looking and go back to sleep.” ¶ 2:28 PM
I pondered a question with Jon MacRae on several occasions. Why did I feel a quick rush of near exhilaration at the grimmest of news or the contemplation of the worst-case scenarios? Jon said I was transferring the dread of the unknown from my inner life to the outer life, outside of my center. That’s probably true. Just as likely, I was trying to shed some past pain. Or, as Mary Melbo says in profiling me as a six on the Enneagram system, I was ever the optimist but with a tendency to fear.
So, am I somehow addicted to the prospect of dreaded news? My former business partner in our Internet professional services firm in San Francisco, Novo, Kelly Rodriques, at one time a worldclass pole vaulter, admitted that what drove him to such heights in his sport and such a ‘take-no-prisioners’ approach to business was an actual, diagnosed by a doctor, addiction to adrenaline. It shocks me to think about and remember how I felt coming out of Dr. Bill Utz’s examining room following the biopsy to tell Carla the grim news. I actually think there was a bit of a ‘rush’ from the numbing news that had just been delivered. Somewhere in the sinews of my center is something calling for another dose of dread? I think it has to be adrenaline that triggered these reactions. Whatever the case, I’d have to say – like my cancer – I don’t feel cured of this addiction, but I think it’s more in check.
Also, the realization just hit me that my dreams have changed markedly since my diagnosis. At least I can’t recall having my most common reoccurring dreams, many dealing with befuddlement around airports, strange airplanes, strange flying patterns, or finding myself back in a town with a vital person from my past but being unable to successfully dial the person's phone number. Maybe since my real journey had its own unique twists and turns I no longer need to invent the dread of being in flummoxing situations in my dreams.
I just had a dream this morning that is somewhat reflective of where my dream life has headed in recent months. I did reconnect with a dear friend from college and everyone reveled in the reunion. I took this as a sign that not only am I more in control of what I do next, I need to not just question what's next, but to walk around a bunch of corners and grab what's revealed.
Oddly – at least to me – I also find myself waking at night with the mind asking – seeking – “are there any visions or flashes of insight” here in this particular fog? My son Mark introduced me to the heavy metal band System of a Down, and amazingly to me, I for the first time ever can see the appeal in metal music. I bring this up because this band has a wonderful lyric that has been stuck in my head all year: “Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep.”
Why my mind is looking for something in the sacred silence of my wakeful moments I can only guess. I suppose it goes back to the sessions with Jon MacRae. A couple of months ago I did have a ‘vision’ that might be something other than the weird shapes your eyes ‘see’ when waking that are caused by moving fluids on your eye’s surface. I awoke, turned my head slightly right and looked across the room above an armoire. There on the wall appeared a perfect square of bright light. Within less than a second, it became an intense and sharp band of light that curved clockwise to form a swirling circle. And just like that it was gone. I actually sat up and pondered what to do. The next few nights I remember turning to look at the same spot in the night, but it didn’t reappear. Was it really something? I have no idea. It’s meaning? Maybe as simple as: “you’ve been looking for something. OK, here’s something. Now stop looking and go back to sleep.” ¶ 2:28 PM
